


No Time Like the Present

by boundbythepast (incantamenta), Eva



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-01
Updated: 2012-05-01
Packaged: 2017-11-04 15:46:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/395500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incantamenta/pseuds/boundbythepast, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eva/pseuds/Eva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft and Greg get stuck in a rainstorm and in order to get home quicker, Mycroft has Greg ride his mare with him. Greg learns some things along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Time Like the Present

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Untitled](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/8251) by Evawrites. 



Mycroft slid gracefully out of the saddle and landed on the ground with a small thud. Greg was mumbling about something as he caught up, but Mycroft was busy calming down his mare to notice. She could smell the storm, he was sure of it. He stroked Darla’s muzzle gently, gazing into her soft brown eye and ignoring Greg’s attempt to not roll his eyes as the sight. 

It started with a few fat drops, but within seconds the sky opened up and it was pouring. They were drenched almost immediately and Greg threw his hands in the air, exasperated. “Oh bloody brilliant! It’s raining, it’s nearly nightfall, and we’re a good four miles from your estate!” Darla snorted and bobbed her head, sensing his irritation almost instantly.

“Calm down, you’re frightening the horse,” Mycroft said, shooting him a glare although his tone was neutral. 

“Who cares about the damned horse! I don’t even understand why we’re out here! Where’s Sherlock, and why –”

“He tricked you Greg. There’s no body hidden out in these woods. Surely you must have realised, especially since Sherlock didn’t lead you here himself,” Mycroft said, a hand still reassuring the mare by stroking her neck. “I hadn’t expected Sherlock to go to such lengths –” he began before Greg took a step in his direction. The mare snorted again and sidestepped, careful to avoid Mycroft’s boots but enough to get away from the hostile energy. 

“Are you telling me, your daft, sociopathic brother sent the two of us on a wild goose-chase into a forest before a rainstorm just to get us alone?” he breathed, tightening his hands into fists. He was sure his fingernails were leaving imprints with the force he had them clenched.

“Well, we weren’t supposed to be stuck out in the rainstorm,” Mycroft admitted, actually looking nervous a moment. “There used to be a cabin, but by the time Sherlock discovered it had been destroyed, it was too late. He hasn’t been to the family summer home in quite some time and must have –”

“Wait! A cabin? One you seem to have known wasn’t here! So why’d you bring me anyway!? And why the hell is Sherlock playing matchmaker!?” Greg nearly shrieked. Mycroft sighed loudly and grabbed his arm – hard. “Oi! Let go!”

“Get on the horse, Detective Inspector, or so help me I will leave you out here,” Mycroft snarled, no longer tolerating Greg’s attitude. Darla looked warily at Greg, but seemed calm enough since Mycroft was there.

“No! I don’t ride horses, don’t even know how! It’s not something people like me do, alright? I have a motorcycle –”

“Which, incidentally, is not here at the moment. No better time to learn than the present. Now get on!” he snapped. Mycroft brought Darla over to a stump and gestured for Greg to climb up. He sighed and threw his hands up before walking over and climbing onto the stump. 

“Now what?” he asked. The corner of Mycroft’s mouth twitched upward as he held the reins and reached over to hold the stirrup still.

“Put your left foot in and use it to lever your body up into the saddle.” It took a couple of tries, but Greg did manage to get up and on without sliding off. Mycroft helped him get his right foot in the other stirrup before motioning him to hold the reins a moment. “I’m going to have to ride with you, since you failed to bring your own method of transportation.”

“What!? Wait, no, I’ll walk.”

“This is faster.”

“Mycroft!”

“Shut up.” And with that, Mycroft managed to get onto Darla with such ease and without the use of the stirrups that Greg sat there awed and a bit jealous. Mycroft wrapped one arm around Greg’s waist while taking the reins in another. He tried desperately not to think about how flush their bodies were against one another, especially when Mycroft leaned forward slightly in order to kick the horse near the stirrups so as not to hurt her.

“I’m going to die,” Greg moaned. Mycroft rolled his eyes.

“You’ll be fine. Darla’s not going to toss us.” They walked in silence for about a mile. The ground was muddied, causing Darla to trip now and then which only forced the two closer together in Mycroft’s attempts to steer her properly. They were out of the shield of tree cover, which meant the mud was only getting worse.

“In retrospect, I probably should have ridden front,” Mycroft admitted, shaking his head to get the rain out of his hair. Greg snorted and turned slightly to look at him.

“Y’know, you never answered me back there.”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t ‘Hmm’ me. You have a near perfect memory and you know precisely what I’m talking about,” Greg said, glaring slightly.

“Fine. Which parts need clearing up?”

“Well, firstly why’d you bring me to a cabin that doesn’t exist? Then tell me why Sherlock is trying to set us up.” Mycroft was silent for a moment before he opened his mouth, leaning close to practically breathe in Greg’s ear. It felt like his spine had been electrocuted and it was dazzling what just the proximity to Mycroft’s mouth could do to him.  
“I think that answers your question to both. But if you’d prefer a wordy explanation, then I can offer that in addendum. I brought you because I wanted you alone, properly. I hadn’t foreseen the storm until it was too late. I was planning on us going a bit further to the decrepit cabin site and turning right back. However, as you may have noticed, the rain decided to join us a bit earlier than I anticipated. And as for Sherlock setting us up? I’ve never bothered to hide the fact that I find you quite attractive and –”

“You do!?” 

“Yes. I made it rather obvious. Perhaps you denied it was a possibility? Any matter, I think he found my obvious infatuation annoying and he happened to notice how you seemed unable to rip your eyes away from my mouth the entire time he was the one speaking. You do know how he loves attention.”

“I wasn’t staring!” he cried defensively. Darla’s ears perked up at the sound, but relaxed with a soft sound of reassurance from Mycroft.

“You most certainly were. Hold the reins a moment. Oh don’t look at me like that, Darla’s pretty much going to go straight home, I just need to deal with the rainwater in my eyes and your body’s in the way of me doing this easily.” Greg took the reins and tried to not be so nervous. 

“You were, well, chewing your lip, then. You don’t normally do that,” he muttered, looking away. Mycroft made a little sound before wrapping his arms around Greg’s side again. He shivered at the momentary touch of their fingers and he could almost feel Mycroft smirk.

“I do hope you realise I have noticed the attraction is mutual,” he breathed, his mouth closer than Greg thought it would have been.

“You bastard,” Greg hissed, trying to ignore Mycroft’s everything now so that his body could calm down.

“Oh I do try. Now, I’m going to teach you how to ride Darla here, because a walk is a tad too slow and I’m not risking you falling because I made her trot.” The change in topic was enough to distract (if not confuse) Greg. “Hold the reins and keep your hands close to her neck. Squeeze gently with your heels. Yes that’s it, but kick a little harder. She can be a pain to get started,” he explained, keeping his hands over Gregory’s so that he wasn’t as nervous. After a nice kick, Darla finally picked up the pace and began trotting. It was a bit bumpier and faster, but not overly unpleasant. However, it meant Mycroft had to keep a tighter hold on Greg’s midsection.

“Nope. Definitely going to die.”

“Oh I hope not, because I have quite a plan as to what to do once we get those soaked clothes off.” Greg was silent a moment before he turned his head slightly.

“Does she go any faster?” Mycroft laughed a proper laugh as they trotted the last mile home.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was based on a ficlet written by Eva in response to my prompt on Tumblr. I have been riding horses a lot more lately and wanted to see Mycroft teach Greg how to ride a horse. He sort of teaches him, but I'm a sucker for Mystrade (and it didn't help that the original ficlet had a bit of Mystrade in it to make that the main focus ;P ). No beta-reader... so any mistakes are my own!


End file.
